James and Lucinda sit together in a booth in the cozy part of a subterranean food hall polished in brass and marble, located underneath a large bank tower in downtown Austin near James’ office and down the street from the domed, granite state capitol building. The smell of fresh-baked pretzels, ramen, chicken wings, fancy cheese, and beer accentuate the warm atmosphere.

Cloud-filtered midday light sneaks through two-story windows facing a terraced pocket park just outside, where a cool breeze and a light drizzle have settled in. 

James’ and Lucinda’s legs touch as they sit side-by-side, Lucinda resting her head on James’ shoulder, her black hair draped over his dark blue sweater. It’s more cute than sexy. They have about 30 minutes before they need to head back to their offices. 

It’s Valentine’s Day, and James and Lucinda have separate plans with their own kids that night. But even with reservations for a fancy “Valentine’s adjacent” dinner coming up, James’ heart had tugged at him overnight to see Lucinda on the day itself.

So the morning had started off with an awkward text message before work.

“Hey L if we can’t have valentines night together, hoe about lunch?” 

James didn’t even notice his type-o.

Lucinda took a few minutes to respond. “Who you calling a hoe??” she finally replied.

James blushed at his phone. He was not sure whether Lucinda was tickled or upset. They had only been dating for three months. 

Back in his distinctly vanilla marriage of twenty years, James would have apologized and sent a spelling correction. But the new James was learning to have some fun and take some risks, especially with Lucinda. 

Looking at his type-o, he remembers what Miles Davis said about playing the wrong note in jazz: a note is never wrong on its own; it’s what comes next that makes it right or wrong.

“You, apparently,” typed James. “Congratulations, you get to be my Valentine’s hoe.” He was still 3% concerned that he could somehow get dumped or arrested for calling Lucinda a hoe but hit send anyways.

Lucinda quickly sent James back a kissy emoji and said she would love to be his hoe any day, especially on Valentine’s Day. And yes to lunch.

Okay, fun type-o. And thanks, Miles.

In the food hall, as James’ lemon pepper chicken wings and Lucinda’s ramen bowl arrive, Lucinda produces a large, fuzzy, hot pink envelope with a white heart on the front and a velcro flap. She slides it in front of James. 

“I think it’s Valens-time,” she says with a smile.

“Okay, but you first,” James says, teasingly serious. He sets a small red and white gift bag in front of Lucinda. He is practicing his assertiveness too. Jettisoning his most wishy-washy married guy instincts is not easy, and he’s grateful that Lucinda seems receptive. It’s fun. He hopes it’s fun for her too.

The bag has a tag on it that says, “FOR LUCINDA.” James had added it at the last minute, hoping she would get the joke.

Lucinda doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Is this tag so you don’t accidentally give my Valentine’s gift to one of your other girlfriends?” she says with raised eyebrows.

“Yes. It’s that kind of attention to detail that makes this situation work for everyone,” James jokes with a smirk. “I’m glad you understand. I don’t think you would have liked Heidi’s present.”

“Heidi sucks,” says Lucinda with a fake-serious scowl.

She opens the gift bag and pulls out a pink, heart-shaped pink bath bomb, a modest gold-plated necklace, and a short handwritten note. The note indicates that James is quite fond of Lucinda, he is happy they met, and he is looking forward to getting to know her even better. 

Sure, it is all a bit nonchalant, but James doesn’t want to go overboard. He had been thrown off balance by Valentine’s Day. Celebrating a three-month relationship is sort of like celebrating the completion of the third floor of a skyscraper. It’s a great start, but this thing isn’t really “there” yet.

Lucinda smiles, says thanks, and gives James a little kiss.

“Okay, now you,” she says, blushing slightly. “Mine’s not super overly romantic,” she lies.

James opens the fuzzy pink envelope and finds a note inside, handwritten in girly cursive with red ink. He reads it to himself as Lucinda starts on her ramen.

Dearest Jemmy,

Today being the day for messages of love, I wanted to openly express how wonderful I think you are and how grateful I am for you.

You are the very essence of a good man: endlessly kind, charming, hard-working, patient, loving, and loyal. Your sense of humor (yummm!), smile and laugh (ohh!), confidence and swagger (ahh!) all drive me insane. And I can’t get enough of your bod. How do we ever get a wink of sleep???

Your gentle nudges at the beginning opened my mind and heart to you. You eased my fear of commitment and made me feel worthy of love again. I feel so lucky to have found you. I promise to make you as happy as you make me for as long as you’re willing to have me.

 
XOXOXO

Love, L

While relationships can bend and twist and unfurl and sometimes snap over the course of months or years, the reverse is also true. Sometimes you can pinpoint the exact moment when things go right. If you’re lucky, you can feel it when it happens.

It would take a few more days for the note to fully settle into James’ conscience, like pottery being fired and cooled in a kiln, but he knew that something changed in him at the lunch hall amongst the ramen and chicken wings.

That night, James and Lucinda swap dinner stories over text. Lucinda’s ex had unexpectedly crashed her Valentine’s dinner with her kids. Ugh. That dude. He sounds like a charmer.

James had made a Valentine’s dinner for his girls featuring spaghetti with marinara sauce, strawberries, and a giant heart-shaped cookie. No ex.

Apparently Lucinda was in a frisky mood that day after their lunch. She said she had picked up a blindfold and a crop from a sex store near her office. 

“I hope it’s not too much too soon,” she said. “If I’m too much for you, you can just beat me off with a stick.”

James wonders how literally Lucinda means her comment. She’s dropping hints about some kinky stuff that James had experimented with only little bit and is interested in exploring more with her.

“It may come to that,” jokes James. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

“Don’t,” says Lucinda, deadpan. “You can’t break me.”

Before the Valentine’s note, James had been on the fence about Lucinda, perhaps overly cautious from years of unhappiness and then his divorce. 

He had built a sort of seawall to protect his heart. He had not sworn off love any more than an island would swear off the sea. It’s part of the package. Still, he knew the dangers. If you wanted to get to James, don’t try crashing your way right over the beach front. The way to James is the long way around to the protected harbor on the other side of the island, slow and steady.

But Lucinda is a hurricane, and on this day of love, with her unflinching authenticity, her shameless flirting, and her passionate note, she has just breached James’ seawall. The first waves of Hurricane Lucinda are lapping on main street.

⬅️ Bye, Jemmy, ➡️ The Glade of Lament